My first job was in a comic book shop. I write about superheroes most every day of the week at work.
Some would find this surprising, knowing how little of Marvel Comics’ output I read (right now, just Thor, and I’m planning on dropping that soon), but my favorite childhood superhero was Spider-Man. Not Superman or Batman. Not Iron Man or the Incredible Hulk. But Spider-Man.
My affection wasn’t for the comic books, though I remember that I had a few Spider-Man comics over the years. I remember, in a very vague way, the Nicholas Hammond television show. The thing that really got me interested in Spider-Man was the 1967 Spider-Man cartoon, which aired in repeats on a local television station when I was small. And, a few years later, of course, Spider-Man and his Amazing Friends.
I’m not sure when Spider-Man fell out of favor with me, but when I really got into comics in high school, Spider-Man wasn’t something that I would even look at. It just didn’t interest me.
Even now, I don’t actively dislike Spider-Man, despite a series of critical tweets yesterday that questioned the logic of the premise of Spider-Man and even suggested what Peter Parker should really have done. When it comes to Spider-Man, I’m just… indifferent. Even the Sam Raimi films are just… okay to me.
Which amuses me to no end. My favorite superhero growing up, and I have no interest in him now. Maybe I outgrew Spider-Man.